


The Fire Dance

by cecania



Series: The Lowlander [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe, Avvar AU, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-20
Updated: 2015-06-20
Packaged: 2018-04-05 05:57:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4168512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cecania/pseuds/cecania
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She's been with the Avvar for months now, but nothing could have prepared Elora for the festival they hold to celebrate the goddess of fireside and fertility. Nothing could have prepared her for the raw desire she felt at watching them dance around the fire. Nothing could have prepared her for the Fire Dance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Fire Dance

**Author's Note:**

> Small note: Creative liberties have been taken with the Avvar and what they hold sacred. Canon has them not believing in permanence so much but that doesn't fit with what I wanted to write so I've chosen to disregard that for the time being. This is also what happens when you think up a new au story at one in the morning.
> 
> The original idea was inspired from feylen's amazing avvar Cullen drawing and we ran with it.
> 
> Companion artwork by artsybizaar/magisteramell: http://artsybizaar.tumblr.com/post/121951308027/razzmatash-and-i-talk-about-the-best-shit-at-4-in

[Companion artwork](http://artsybizaar.tumblr.com/post/121951308027/razzmatash-and-i-talk-about-the-best-shit-at-4-in) by artsybizaar/magisteramell

 

  
           The drums drew her. They'd been playing for the last two nights, boiling in her blood and making her skin feel too tight. But it wasn't just the drums, it was the sounds of cheering, of revelry, of joy and happiness ringing through the hold. Rosalie and Mia had told her again, just like the last two nights, that she didn't have to go if she didn’t want to but she knew that underneath they wanted her to come. The Avvar knew that she didn't understand their ceremonies, gods, customs. She was their honoured guest and no one would be insulted if she didn't join in. But the words had simply reinforced what that single woman had told her despite the other things they had said.

_"You don't have to worry about Cully bringing anyone home if you don’t come out," Rosalie said as she poked the stew on the fire. "So there won't be any awkwardness for you."_

_That thoroughly confused her. Bring someone back? "Why not?" Elora asked. "He's the Thane of the hold so why wouldn't he bring someone back?"_

_"He never has," Rosalie shrugged._

_"He has," Mia corrected quietly, "but infrequently and a very long time ago. Our brother has bigger concerns than a partner in a fertility celebration."_

_Elora’s eyes widened. Fertility? "Wouldn't it be disrespectful for the Thane to not be involved?"_

_Mia shooed Rosalie away from the fire and sighed. "Cullen is complicated and does not see the point in casual relationships. While Rilla is invoked for children, she does not approve of them being made without cause, without the parents each being committed to raising that child. Our brother is the same and as Thane there are many who would trap him with a child because they know he would not abandon his blood in any way."_

_"This is...far more complicated than I'd thought." Perhaps that was why no one had thought to explain it. There were so many parts to it when she had thought it was just a dance._

_Mia smiled faintly. "The Lowlanders seem to forget that we have been around just as long as you. Our gods keep us safe and we return that favour."_

_Elora wanted to ask her more but Rosalie was already moving to the door, squealing about it starting. She watched as Mia pushed up and dusted off her skirt. A blush tinged her cheeks as the loose shawl Mia was wearing slipped slightly and Elora realised she wasn't wearing anything under it._

_"The stew will be ready shortly, Elora," she murmured as she started to the door. She paused before leaving and looked back at her. "If you do join us, be wary of those that approach you. None will do it in ill will but do not think you have to pick the first man that dances for you. We women choose tonight and there will be no insult if you do not choose anyone."_

            Mia's warning had made her curious, but she had stayed inside, eating a bowl of stew as the sounds had grown. It had only gotten louder as the sun had sank below the horizon, coating the land in darkness except for the large fires burning in the centre of the hold.

            She'd been unable to help herself despite the words rattling around her head, the drums echoing inside her and pulling her closer. People were dancing, she could see them moving around the fire, some on their own, others couples moving perfectly in sync with one another.

            The wisps were strangely silent as she went, making her more nervous than anything else. They were still there, she knew they were, but it was almost like they were caught in the snare of the drums as well.

            She was on the edge of the firelight now, her heart pounding in her chest along with the drums. Everyone was having a good time, drinks and food being passed around freely. She couldn't see where the drummers were but it felt like they were all around, in the shadows like her. But that didn’t matter.

            Moving closer, Elora felt her breath catch as she watched a pair dance. He was dressed only in the leather skirting she had caught Cullen in once or twice and leather boots. There was little ornamentation on him, but that didn’t matter, not when so much of him was on display. She was in a cloth skirt, shawl long abandoned as she danced with him. She was naked from the waist up and didn’t seem to care about it.

            Elora tugged on her hair as she looked away. Why would she care about her breasts being bare when it was much more pleasing to focus on the man she was dancing with? Her lips parted on a soft gasp when she saw that most of the women were in a similar state, shawls still with them but chests bared…and proudly. What had she been told? Rilla was the goddess of the fireside and fertility? She’d heard enough whispered remarks about herself to know what the Avvar considered signs of fertility so why wouldn’t they being showing off how fertile they were?

            Scanning the crowd, she stood on her toes, looking for a familiar face. Her breath caught when she saw him, lounging on a throne lined with thick furs. He was slouched down, a mug in one hand and the other propping up his chin as he watched the dancers. He was dressed in the same leather loincloth the man dancing was and if she was closer she was sure she’d get quite the view from how he was sitting.

             _Fool_ , she berated herself.  _You already know what he looks like without a stitch on._

            Didn’t mean that she wouldn’t want to see him again.

            She looked away with a blush when his gaze seemed to sweep where she was standing. Shifting on her feet, she wanted to pretend that she wasn’t affected by what was happening in front of her, but there was no way that she could be this close and not be. Of course, her gaze landed on the dancers again and she felt her blush get deeper.

            In the few moments she had looked away, the dance had gotten much hotter, much more erotic, much more personal. Biting her lip, she couldn’t look away from them, watching as breasts brushed against a solid chest, as hips ground together, as hands swept over bare skin, all while they spun in circles in a larger one around the fire.

            Rubbing her thighs together, Elora couldn’t stop the tiny sigh that left her and she could hear the desire, the want in the small sound. The man was touching his partner with a reverence she could see from here and she wanted the same. She wanted someone to touch her like that, wanted someone to look at her like that, wanted someone to want her like that.

            But she wasn’t Avvar and she wasn’t supposed to be here. She should return to Cullen’s home before anyone saw her.

            “Elora!”

            She jerked at the squeal of her name, watching as Rosalie rushed to her. Well, that didn’t work.

            “You came!” she said excitedly, grabbing her hands and pulling her forward. “You actually came!”

            Oh, her blush wasn’t going anywhere. Not when those words made her think about the lust simmering just under her skin. A quick glance showed that the couple was still dancing and it was still as enticing as before. “Rosalie, no, I don’t think I should-“

            Rosalie gave her a sunny grin and tugged her closer to the fires. “It’s better by the fire,” she assured her. “You can’t see anything from back there!”

            Except now everyone could see her and was staring at her. Including Cullen. Oh, she shouldn’t be here. What was she supposed to even do? She’d just been curious and now the Thane’s youngest sister was giddily bringing her deeper into the throng. An outsider where she didn’t belong.

            “Oh!” Rosalie said quickly, turning to face her. “You’re overdressed!”

            Elora’s eyes widened and she took a step back in horror. “No! I couldn’t!”

            Golden curls spilled over Rosalie’s bare shoulder. “Of course you can. They’re just breasts, Elora. Half the people here have them!”

            None of the people there had been raised as she had, they’d been raised with these dances and wild celebrations of themselves. She’d always been ashamed of her body, taught to think she was less because she had more. “No, Rosalie, I-“

            “For shame, child,” a new voice said, catching Rosalie’s arm as she reached out to Elora. “What are you thinking?”

            Warm brown eyes blinked at the woman. “She’s joined us at the Fire Dance so she should be appropriately dressed.”

            “And she will be, but this is her first Fire Dance,” the woman stressed. “She hasn’t ever done this before so she is like our children who have just come of age. Do we strip them bare in front of everyone for all to see? Or do we give them the love and respect that they deserve and welcome them into the dance?”

            Rosalie was flushing now. “I’m sorry, Elora,” she murmured. “I got too excited.”

            “It’s okay,” she whispered. Because it was. She had been around Rosalie enough to know that she got excited quickly. But she had a feeling she had only dodged an arrow for a moment. “I think I should go back inside.”

            “Nonsense,” the woman said, flicking her hand to send Rosalie off and she heard the drums start up again. Or maybe they had been going the entire time and she’d just stopped hearing them.

            “I don’t think I can do that,” she whispered as weather worn fingers beckoned her on.

            The woman clucked her tongue. “You’re a passionate one. Our gods can see the fire burning inside you that has nothing to do with the mark on your hand and everything to do with your soul. Come with me.”

            Elora followed her because there was nothing else she could do as she led her just outside of the light of the fire. “No one would want to see me,” she insisted. “I’m just a Lowlander. I’m not an Avvar.”

            “No one? Not an Avvar? Child, where did you come from that you’d think you aren’t desirable? Or that you aren’t welcome among our people?” the woman said in confusion, her hands pausing on Elora’s clothes. "Are things so very different in the Lowlands?"

            She shrugged and looked away. She didn’t want to talk about where she was from or about how undesirable she was.

            “You’re touched in the head if you think the men aren’t going to be falling over themselves trying to dance for you and get you to choose one of them. Might even finally get the Thane off of his ass.”

            “Why?” Elora said in confusion.

            “Because you’re quite beautiful, child.”

            She certainly didn’t feel like it. She clutched at her shirt to keep it closed when she realised that all of the clasps were open. All she could think about was all the little flaws on her, all the little things she hated about herself.

            “If you want to return to the Thane’s home, you can. But I think you should stay.”

            “To be ridiculed?”

            “No one here is going to do that, child. No one. And,” she said quietly as an afterthought, “our Thane will be pleased you stayed.”

            “Cullen?” she said in surprise before flushing. “You…truly think so?”

            Delighted laughter left the woman. “Oh, child, do you not see the way he looks at you? Do you not know what it means?”

            Elora stared at her, her thoughts spinning around one another.

            “What is it to be, child?”

            Elora took a deep breath, feeling her heart pound. Go or stay? Stay or go? Was she brave enough to stay? Because she knew she was certainly cowardly enough to go.

 

* * *

 

 

            Cullen watched Vera lead Elora out of the firelight, frowning when he couldn’t see them anymore. He had given up hope of her joining them at the fires but why had she finally come? What had suddenly changed that she would come after two nights of refusing to speak on why she wouldn’t join them? And why tonight, why the Fire Dance when he couldn’t explain what it was, what he wanted to share with her? “Mia,” he said lowly.

            “Don’t look at me, Brother,” she muttered from his side. “This has nothing to do with me.”

            He let out a slow breath. He knew she would be safe tonight at least because violence of any kind during the Fire Dance was met with immediate exile. But she was also up for grabs, for the men to try to catch and keep her attention. It didn’t matter that she wasn’t his, she was his guest and if she actually accepted someone it would be a slight against his house. Especially given the whispers that ran through the hold of the speculation of their relationship already.

            “It might not be that bad,” Branson said quietly. “Vera is good with all the girls. She’ll probably tell her its best to go back to the hut.”

            “No one explained what tonight is to her,” Cullen snapped.

            “It doesn’t take a genius to figure it out, Cullen.”

            He levelled a glare at Branson. “You’re not helping,” he said flatly.

            “She’ll be fine, Cullen. She’s a tough girl no matter what she thinks.”

            He knew that but there was a timidity, a fragility to her that wasn’t in any of the Avvar. It was a shyness that was endearing and sweet but wasn’t something that could survive in the hold. If she had a husband it would be different because he could make sure that that sweetness remained but she was a Lowlander lost among them and barely finding her place. Although, he wasn't sure any of the hold were worthy of being that to her, not if any of them viewed her as a Lowlander whore.

            His mood soured at the thought. Lady, that was not what he needed to be thinking about right now. Letting out a slow breath, Cullen choked on it when Vera came back to the fire and he saw Elora trailing behind her.

            “By the Lady,” Branson breathed beside him, sounding as struck as Cullen felt.

            She was shyly rubbing her arms, her long hair falling around her in thick curls. Her head was down so she couldn’t see that the gathered clan was staring at her, staring at the expanse of pale skin she was baring. Because she had come back to them dressed like one of their women.

            Cullen was breathing hard as he looked at her. He was too far away to see anything specific but he didn’t need to be close. He knew what she looked like. He knew the heavy swells of her breasts that her long curls were hiding. He knew the narrow dip of her waist before she curved back out into her hips. She was wearing the loose skirt she’d been in earlier that day. The one with the simple ties that only a few tugs would have falling to her slippered feet.

            The quiet that had fallen when she had returned was slowly broken by the sounds of the clan pounding hands and feet against whatever surface they could. He saw her head come up sharply at the noise as it only grew in volume. He heard Branson and Mia beside him echo it as it increased, the welcome reserved for girls that were now old enough for the Fire Dance. But it was fitting as she had never been at one before.

            He felt Mia nudge him and he shifted so he could bang one fist against the arm of his chair. He watched as her wide gaze moved over the area, realising that everyone was focused on her. She wouldn’t like it, she didn’t like the attention. What was she doing out here?

            “Calm down, Cullen,” Mia murmured. “She’ll be treated with the respect she deserves. No one will want to displease the gods.”

            Grunting softly, Cullen took a slow drink from his mug. He’d stuck to ale, skipping the Fire Brew that would set his blood aflame. He’d had no desire to dance when she hadn’t been here, hadn’t wanted to even think about it so he had stuck to the ale. Now, with her following Vera to a place to sit around the fires, he was wondering if he should have had some of it.

            His gaze didn’t leave her, didn’t waver as the dancing started again. It wasn’t only the Fire Dance, several people were preforming circle dances that were simply for fun. He should have known she was there. He always knew when she was nearby, his skin growing tight and flushed even when she wasn’t looking at him. But she’d been outside of the fire, far enough from the light he hadn’t been able to see her until Rosalie had squealed her name.

            “She doesn’t have a shawl,” he growled sharply as he watched her fidget with her hair. She didn’t have anything to cover herself with except her hair and even then that barely did more than cast alluring shadows on her.

            “Cullen, you can’t give her one,” Mia said quickly, grabbing his arm. “You can’t!”

            He gave her a look. “She’s my guest,” he said tightly.

            “If you give her one of our shawls, you won’t be allowed to dance for her. You’ll be claiming her as part of our family and not as our guest. Is that what you want?”

            Grinding his teeth, Cullen slumped back into his seat. No. That wasn’t what he wanted but he wasn’t sure he would have what he wanted. For the time being, she was safe with Vera though. Vera always kept an eye on the new ones, she would keep her safe. But his gaze never wavered from her. Even if he had wanted to look away, he wouldn’t have.

            He’d tried to keep his fascination to himself, tried to keep the attraction he felt to himself. She had enough on her mind without him adding to it with his desires. But that near kiss weeks ago had left him raw. It was pure torture sleeping in the same bed as her for these past months, hearing the soft noises she made in her sleep, feeling her shift against him, hearing that deep inhale as she came awake, and knowing that she wasn’t his. She might have slept in his arms but it wasn’t because she wanted to be claimed.

            Cullen shook his head sharply. No. He couldn’t think about that, not right now. He didn’t need to be dealing with an erection even though it was more than a common occurrence through the night. He needed to stop drinking and just focus on- “What is Rosalie doing?” he hissed as he watched his youngest sibling rush over to where Elora was sitting.

            “You know they’re close, Cullen. And Rosie was almost as disappointed as you were that Elora wasn’t at the last dances. Let her spend time with her friend.”

            And that meant hauling her up to pull her closer to the fire? A low growl left him as Rosalie swung her into one of the simple circle dances, her hair swinging free and baring her.

            “Leave them for the moment,” Branson said quietly. “Let them both have a bit of fun. It’ll help Elora relax.”

            She was laughing faintly as Rosalie swung her around, not knowing any of the steps and simply following Rosie’s lead. It was a sound he had sorely missed over the last weeks. Sending her to the farms had been a sound move, but he had missed her sorely while she had been gone. He hadn’t realised how hard it would be to sleep without her there.

            He suddenly wondered if someone had given her something to drink because the woman dancing with his sister wasn’t the Elora he was used to. Rubbing his mouth, he tried to beat back his desire but it was impossible. Rosalie had swung them around so that they had passed near where he was sitting and he wanted to groan. He could almost see the beads of sweat trailing down her skin, could almost see how tight her nipples were, could almost believe that she would accept him if he danced for her.

            Lady of the Skies, he didn’t remember feeling like this at his last Fire Dance. Every boy was taught the basics of it, but they also knew that it changed to suit the man, changed to suit the woman. How would she dance with him? Would she be shy and hesitant? Would she be confident and sure? Would she be teasing and flirty? Would she let him take her back to his home to share his body with her?

            Watching as Rosalie took her fully around the fire, he wanted to hiss as he realised what she had done. She had just shown Elora off to all of the clan, had shown all of them exactly what the Lowlander was like, had showed them her soft laugh and softer body. How many were going to dance for her now? How many were going to stand up and strut around the fire to try to convince her to pick them for the night?

            But Elora was smiling still as she sank back down beside Vera. She had enjoyed herself at least and wasn’t hiding behind her hair now.

            He quickly looked over when he heard something filling his cup and frowned at Mia.

            “You’re going to want that,” she murmured.

            “I don’t want the Fire Brew,” he said lowly.

            “Everyone who dances drinks it tonight, Brother.”

            “I don’t want my passion to be blamed on a drink, Mia,” Cullen said firmly. “I don’t want to be accused of being false in what I want because I had the brew in my belly.”

            "The brew doesn't create desire, Cullen. It only extends it. You know that."

            He made a face at her.

            “Then are you not going to dance?”

            He stared for a long moment before looking at Elora. She had her hands folded in her lap as she watched the dancers, still smiling and happy. “She won’t pick me, Mia.”

            “Cullen, you’re Thane of our clan. You’ve kept her safe since Branson fished her out of the stream. You’ve been nothing but kind to her.”

            “Kindness doesn’t translate to wanting to share my bed.” Perhaps if they’d kissed he would be more confident in knowing that she would take his hand. If he had gotten to talk to her about what the dances were.

            “You don’t know that,” she murmured. “Elora values you, values how you’ve been with her. I don’t think she would turn you away.”

            It didn’t matter. He wasn’t going to dance. Maybe after the celebration was over he would approach her. She wasn’t Avvar, asking her that way would be better. Except maybe she would think that he didn’t think her worthy of a dance in front of the entire clan? Would she doubt him and reject him if he did it without the Fire Dance?

            He’d be a fool either way.

            Cullen straightened on his seat when he saw someone push to their feet to the cheers of his fellows. Oh. Oh no. He watched as the hunter practically prowled around the fire, heading straight for his Lowlander. He knew Branson and Mia were staring as a low noise that sounded like a growl left him.

             “They're allowed to try, Cullen,” Branson hissed. “It doesn't mean they'll succeed.”

             “Brother, if you're going to growl like the hold beast, you need to dance for her yourself.”

             His hand wrapped around the arm of his throne, squeezing hard enough for the wood to creak. He knew they were allowed. That didn't mean he had to like it. His teeth clenched as he watched the hunter stop in front of Elora, much to her surprise. Her jaw dropped as he spoke to her and he was thankful that Rosalie’s hand clamped down on Elora’s arm. His sister wouldn't let his Lowlander dance with just anyone. She would know what was at stake…but why did she take Elora around then? There were so many that would want to bed the moon skinned Lowlander. There were so many that would want to walk their fingers across that pale flesh, so many that would want to put their mouths on it, to mark it in whatever way they could to keep others away.

            He sucked in a deep breath when he saw someone else stand up to make their way over to her. That got several people to pound on tables. It didn’t happen often, two men vying for one woman at the same time. Usually one would wait for the other to be rejected or start his dance before cutting in. But attempting to stop it before it had even started?

            Elora was staring at them in something akin to horror, her head jerking between the pair. Had either of them ever even talked to her?

            “Brother,” Mia said softly and in glancing at her he saw the third person.

            “By the gods,” Branson growled. “What are they even doing? She isn’t going to take any of them seriously. Rosie will know they’re only looking to say that they were with the Lowlander. She won't let Elora pick any of them.”

            Cullen let his breath out slowly. He was tired of this but there wasn’t much he could do about it. The women were the ones in control tonight, they chose their partners, they chose how long they stayed at the fire, they chose who they left with. He couldn’t ask Elora to leave, couldn’t ask her to sit with him to use his presence as a deterrent, couldn’t ask anything of her. Except one thing.

            Draining his cup, silence fell abruptly as he pushed out of his throne, everyone watching him as he stepped down from the dais. His gait was measured as he walked around the fire and he knew those three boys were staring at him openly, praying to the Mountain Father that he wasn’t going to Elora. He saw two of them step back as he approached, only the first remaining, but Cullen barely spared him a look. His gaze was on Elora, only her.

            And she was staring right back at him.

 

* * *

 

 

            Elora felt her breath catch as Cullen watched her. He was approaching her like a predator, like she was his next meal. The other men had looked at her like that as well, but he was the only one that had made her stomach clench because of it. “Cullen?” she whispered.

            He didn’t answer her, only shrugging out of his fur and leather vest.

            She didn’t know what it meant when he tossed it at her feet but the last man, the last one she wasn’t sure she knew, stepped back at the action. She felt Rosalie’s hand tighten on her arm before her touch was gone and all she was left with was Cullen, wearing nothing but that leather loincloth and his boots.

            Her lungs locked up when he moved, his muscles shifting under his skin and the firelight casting such interesting patterns on him. It made him more burnished, made it glow. All she could do was stare as he moved in front of her, slow undulations of his body, sharp thrusts of his hips that had heat filling her.

            She didn’t know what she was supposed to do, was only vaguely aware that the drums were slowly starting to come back, to accompany their Thane. She didn’t know where she was supposed to look, there wasn’t anywhere proper because every part of him was so tempting. She didn’t know how she was supposed to respond, didn’t know if there was something she could do to let him know what he was doing to her.

            Her heart was pounding in her chest-or was it the drums?-as she watched him, squirming to the edge of her seat. What did she do? What was she supposed to do in the face of his dancing? She didn’t know what to do!

            “If he reaches out,” Rosalie whispered from beside her, “take his hand. But understand that if you take it, the dance doesn’t end here at the fire. This is only where it starts.”

            Meaning they would have sex if she took his hand. Was that what she wanted? Did she want to have sex with him? She nearly smacked herself. Of course she did. She had for a long time. But why was he doing this? To keep the others away or because he actually wanted her? He hadn’t tried to kiss her again and she wondered if he’d had second thought about it.

            _Thane Cullen and Elora. Elora and Thane Cullen._

_Dance? Dance?_

            But she couldn’t deny how he was making her feel while she watched him. If she’d thought she’d been aroused before watching the other couple, it was nothing compared to what she was feeling now. Cullen was a work of art as he moved, all toned muscles, ruddy skin marked with white and blue lines, and golden hair.

            She leaned forward a bit more, acutely aware of every inch of herself. She could feel her hair shifting against her back, against her nipples. She could feel the sweat trickling over her skin, down her spine, between her breasts. She could feel the heat building at the apex of her legs, tightening her stomach, slicking the inside of her thighs. Her chest was heaving as she panted for air, her lips parted as she tried to breath, her eyes hazy as she couldn’t look away.

            _Dance?_

            Why wasn’t he reaching out? She was ready to take his hand, was ready to dance with him even though she didn’t know the steps, was ready for him to take her. Did he think she wouldn’t take his hand? Because she would. Gods help her, all she wanted to do was take his hand.

            He was watching her hotly, barely breaking eye contact as he spun and twisted in front of her. His gaze always came back to her almost immediately and it was more intense each time. She could see his chest moving as he breathed deeply, see the sweat tracking along the lines of his muscles, see the curls falling forward onto his face.

            “Cullen,” she mumbled, desperate for anything. He could probably brush his fingers against her skin and she would implode from it.

            _Dance?_

            She thought she saw his mouth twitch, the scar on the upper one pulling that corner up higher like it always did whenever he smiled. She wanted to kiss that mouth so badly. She wanted to feel that mouth moving over every inch of her. She wanted him so damned much.

            Her fingers curled against her thighs, wanting nothing more than to reach out to him. But Rosalie had said to take his hand if he reached out to her. Was she not allowed to? Why hadn’t she asked about this dance? Why hadn’t she asked more question about this?! She’d asked about everything else so why not-She almost froze when his hand came out, reaching out to her. It was smoothly done, easily could have been dismissed as a move in the dance, but she knew it wasn’t. Simply by the way his expression had tightened slightly.

            He was worried she wouldn’t take his hand. He thought she wouldn’t take his hand.

            Even if she hadn’t been aroused, she would have taken it to spare him the humiliation of dancing for her and her turning him down. But she was aroused, almost painfully so, and her hand practically shot out to clasp his.

            _Dance!_

            Cullen’s eyes sparked to life and he gently pulled her to her feet. He let her go for a moment, pressing his palm flat to hers and lifting their hands as he threaded his fingers through hers. But he’d pulled her into him, his free hand curving around her hip, long fingers settling on her ass.

            Her free hand pressed to his chest, uncertain where to go. He was still watching her and she couldn’t look away. “I don’t know how to do this,” she whispered, fear rearing its head.

            “Listen to the drums,” he breathed, shifting them both to the steady beat. “Move with them. Move with me.”

            Licking her lips, she tried to listen to them, tried to do what he wanted, but all she could hear was her heart. It was pounding so loudly it was all she could focus on. “I can’t.”

            “Yes, you can,” he murmured, practically lifting her off her feet as he spun them in a circle.

            Elora bit her lower lip. She could feel her skin brushing against his and it made her knees quiver. Which did not help with the dancing.

            “The Fire Dance is unique, Elora,” he rumbled. “It’s ours and no one else’s. We do what you want, nothing more and nothing less.”

            “What I want?” she whispered, feeling weightless as he lifted her again, her toes skimming the ground.

            “What do you want, Elora?”

            _Dance!_

            “You,” she said in a soft voice.

            A low growl rippled through him and into her, making her gasp loudly. “Dance with me, Elora,” he pleaded. “Dance with me.”

            She swallowed hard, fingers tightening on his. The hand on his chest slid down, stroking over the muscles in his abdomen before sliding under his arm.

            Another growl left him as her fingers slipped under leather, stroking the taut muscles of his ass lightly.

            Staring up at him, she realised it wasn’t her heart she was listening to. No it was, but it was beating in time with the drums. Her steps got lighter as she moved with him, tugging him closer and watching as his eyes lit up again.

            “Yes,” he purred.

            She rose up on her toes with a sharp gasp as he slipped his thigh between hers seamlessly. But he followed her, pressing his thigh against her sex. His groan made her shudder as he felt how wet she was for him. There was no room in her for embarrassment. Why would she be embarrassed about being aroused for the man pressed against her? Why would she be embarrassed about him finding out what he had been doing to her?

            Pushing down against him, her head tipped back as she ground against his thigh. Her eyes closed on a sigh as pleasure flooded her. Was this the dance? Was this what it was supposed to be about? Humming in the back of her throat, she dug her nails into his ass and revelled in his hips bucking forward. She purred herself at the feel of him rubbing against her. This she liked. This she could do. This was what she wanted.

            He was what she wanted.

            “Cullen,” she breathed, her voice husky.

            She wanted to protest when he let go of her hand but his slid into her hair, cupping the back of her head. “Elora, don’t stop,” he whispered. “Please.”

            Stop? No, no, no! She wasn’t ever going to stop! Her hand slipped down to join the other, cupping his ass and making him groan. She used him to pull herself closer, teeth raking over her lower lip as she rolled her hips over his leg. She could feel his erection pressing against her as they moved together. He ground it against her belly as he lifted her up on her toes, sliding her over his leg.

            A breath shivered out of her. She was so close to coming, she felt like she was right on the edge. Lips parting, she wanted him to kiss her. Was he allowed to kiss her? She didn’t know. She wanted him to. Wanted him to finally kiss her.

            His brows drew together slightly, his eyes darting over her face. “Tell me what you want,” he breathed.

            A moan left her. Words? She didn’t think she could honestly speak!

            “Elora,” he groaned, somehow fitting her closer to him. “Tell me.”

            “Kiss me?” she whispered, too much hope, too much arousal in her voice.

            He groaned again and his mouth came down on hers. He wasted no time slipping between parted lips, curling and stroking around her quickly. His hips jerked when her nails dug into his ass again and she cried out softly into his mouth.

             It became a protest when he tore his mouth from hers and she stared up at him hazily. She wanted him to kiss her again, wanted his tongue to curl around hers, to stroke and tease and make her come.

            “What do you want?” he asked lowly, his chest heaving against hers.

            “You,” she whispered again.

            “You're sure?”

            “I want you,” she moaned softly, legs quivering on either side of his.

            He growled harshly and she nearly cried out again when he pulled away from her. It never made it out of her throat as he bent slightly, just enough to wind his arms around her waist and lift her off her feet.

            She gasped as he held her at eye level. Both of their chests were pressed together and his skin felt like it was burning against hers. She couldn't look away from him as he carried her away from the fire, but a touch of heat filled her cheeks when she heard the roar following them. The drummers weren't focused on a beat anymore, simply banging on them steadily. The clan was somehow louder than that as they shouted their approval and thumped hands and feet against floor and table.

             “Is that normal?” she whispered.

             His lips quirked. “They're not usually that loud,” he admitted. “It's more because it's….”

             “You?”

             “Us,” he corrected lowly.

             Her toes curled in her slippers at the word. Us? She liked that. A lot. Sliding her hands into his hair, she murmured, “That's something that you want?”

             He stopped at the door of his home to press her to it, slowly grinding his erection against her until she moaned desperately. “You,” he breathed. “I want you.”

 

* * *

 

            Cullen had danced at the fire before, had taken a woman at his first one and thought that he knew what the Fire Dance was about. He had thought that he had known what to expect when the brew was in his belly and a woman was in his arms, seeking her pleasure from him. He had seen all kinds of dances at the fire, first at its side as a newly accepted man and then from the front as Thane of the hold. He’d seen passion, lust, love, desire, everything that was supposed to be at the Fire Dance.

            He had not been prepared for Elora.

            She’d been liquid in his arms once she’d found her footing, moving and twisting like he already had her pressed into the furs of his bed. She’d touched him without reservation and he knew her nails had left imprints on his flesh. She’d been hot to the touch, scalding him as her skin had brushed against his. She’d nearly driven him to his knees as she’d writhed on his thigh, tight nipples sweeping against his chest as she rocked.

            He still wasn’t sure how he was standing as he remembered how wet she had been for him. It was only his pride at the thought that she was that aroused for him before he had even put his hands on her that had kept him upright.

            But now they were out of the firelight and he had her pressed between him and the door of his hut. She was staring at him with hazy eyes he could only just see from the torches lining the walkways. Her lower lip was caught in her teeth as he kept shifting his hips against her, slow, careful grinds against her soft belly. “Cullen,” she murmured, her voice catching.

            By the Mountain Father! The way she said his name! “Tell me if I do something that you do not like,” he said lowly.

            “I don't think that's going to happen,” she moaned.

            His lips quirked slightly but he murmured, “I'm serious, Elora. This is about you, for you.”

            She squirmed against him, making him bite his cheek as she wrapped one leg around his and he felt her slick desire on her thigh. “Alright. Touch me? Please?”

            Leaning forward, he kept her pinned as his hands slid over her waist and down to her ass. He adored the soft feel of her in his calloused hands before he was hefting her up. Her gasp was startled but he heard the desire in it. Her legs wound around him, her heel pushing into him as she hooked her ankles together. Her skirt was completely rucked up around her hips so there was nothing between them as she pressed against his abdomen.

            He'd lifted her enough that she was slightly above him now and at the perfect height for what he wanted. Dipping his head, he took one pert nipple into his mouth and sucked as soon as his lips closed around her. She cried out in response, but it was all pleasure so he didn’t stop. Rolling her on his tongue, he felt his cock jerk as she whimpered, arching her back against him. He wanted to cup her in his hands, feel the weight of her against his palms, but he’d have to put her down to do that and he wasn’t ready for that yet.

            She was shifting against him, her legs tightening around him. She was rubbing herself against him and her slick flesh ground against his stomach. Her ass was flexing in his hands as she moved and he didn’t even attempt to stop her.

            Humming encouragingly around her, he closed his eyes as her fingers wound into his hair. He could feel them shaking as she ran them through the curls. Soft murmurs were tumbling from her lips, almost too quiet for him to make any of them out. All he could hear was her pleasure in them which was exactly what he wanted.

            Pulling back from her, he nuzzled against her breast, licking against the bud he had just had in his mouth. Cullen pressed kisses over the swell of her, wanting nothing more than to spread her out on the furs of his bed so that he could feast on every inch of her. He wanted to bury his face between her breasts, between her thighs, and spend all night making sure that she was satisfied. For now, he started kissing up her breast, trailing his tongue along her until he could flick it against her nipple.

            She was panting deeply, her breaths catching regularly. She twisted against him, seeking her pleasure and using him to find it. He heard her head thump back against the door when his lips closed around her again, his name leaving her in a long moan. Her fingers dug into his shoulders, pushing against him and the door as she ground herself into him.

            A growl left him when she arched and slipped from his mouth but it died immediately as he saw her. She was on the verge, her expression tight. “Yes,” he breathed, watching as her brows drew together.

            She was truly a gift from the gods. She was arching against him, back bowing as her hips pushed into him. Her eyes were squeezed shut and her lips parted as she gasped for air. There was nothing on her face but pleasure and he felt a surge of pride that he was the one that was giving it to her.

            His arousal spiked when her mouth rounded on a quickly sucked in gasp and he watched as she orgasmed. High mewls left her as she writhed against him. Her fingers dug into his shoulders, nails scraping against skin and scars. She was squeezing him with her thighs, her body still moving as pleasure overrode everything else.

            But a frown pulled at his mouth when she suddenly bit down on her lip, stifling all of the noises she was making. “Elora,” he breathed when she slumped against him.

            She was still panting for air and it took her a long moment for her head to lower. It took even longer for her to open her eyes to look at him.

            “Hold onto me,” Cullen told her.

            Her arms moved to wrap around his neck and she leaned into him. Once she was settled against him-by the Lady, she was soft!-he moved them away from the door and shoved it open with his foot. Before he could get it closed, she had started kissing his face, gentle presses of her lips everywhere she could reach. “Cullen,” she sighed, her breath warm against his skin.

            Shifting his arm so he could keep her up with just one, he lifted the other so he could run it over her hair. “Elora, I-”

            “Take me,” she whispered, cutting him off.

            He stared at her for a moment before groaning deeply. He’d talk to her later. Much later. Right now…. Sinking to his knees, he kept her pressed against him, not letting her move away at all. She was staring at him, watching him hotly like she had before she’d taken his hand.

            “Right here?” she asked curiously, her fingers toying with the curls at the back of his head. “Not in your bed?”

            “We’ll get there,” he promised lowly, tugging on the ties of the only thing between them. He wanted his clothes off. Now. “Eventually.”

            An almost nervous laugh left her. “Eventually?”

            Gently guiding her, he got her to loosen her hold on him just enough to lift her up. His jaw clenched when he slipped between wet folds, the head of his cock dragging slowly through them. “Elora,” he pushed out, “if you want me, you have to finish this.”

            Her brows drew together quizzically. “Finish? We’ve barely started.”

            He couldn’t stop his smile at that. “Inside,” he rumbled. “Put me inside of you.”

            She swallowed before one of her hands moved out of his hair. He was acutely aware of her fingers trailing down his chest, of how they lingered on the raised flesh of the scars across one pectoral. She was burning him with her touch, as hot as the fire outside. But he didn’t rush her as she took her time, fingers wandering and exploring.

            Biting down on his cheek when she leaned back slightly, Cullen wished the mostly banked fire wasn’t behind her. He wanted to see her face better, wanted to see what she was thinking while she touched him. But he wasn’t going to move them, wasn’t going to disturb her as she explored.

            But he must have made a noise because her head lifted to look up at him suddenly. “Something wrong?” she said softly.

            “No.”

            She tipped her head to the side as if she didn’t believe him.

            He didn’t get to say anything to her because her hand dipped down further, working between her skirt and him. Sucking in a sharp breath, he let it out slowly as she wrapped around him. His lashes fluttered as his head fell back at the touch. A low rumble left him, caught half way between a pleased moan and a growl for more. He hadn’t taken a partner in the Fire Dances in years, hadn’t taken a lover in almost as long, not since he had claimed the title of Thane. He’d almost forgotten what it was like to have someone else touch him.

            “Cullen?” she asked softly.

            Her hand was moving along him, stroking slowly. He wanted to beg her to put him in, to take him, to let him claim her. But she had to do it without coercion from him. No matter how much he wanted it, this was her choice. Rilla demanded it.

            His chest heaved when she squirmed slightly before she was shifting him, moving him so he was pressed against her entrance. Her hips wriggled again as just the head of him slipped inside her. “Help me,” she whispered.

            He was more than happy to. His hips rolled up, working him a little further into her. She sighed lustfully, her hand sliding down him before it was pressing low on his stomach. “Yes,” he groaned as she rocked her hips into his next thrust.

            She made a hum of agreement, still rocking on him.

            Cullen kept still as she took him, slowly getting further down his cock. But she didn’t stop when he was fully inside her. She danced on his lap, both of her hands gripping his shoulders as she rolled and circled her hips. He watched her as her body moved in the dying firelight, shadows keeping him from seeing all of her, but he didn’t need to. He could feel her moving, dancing as wickedly as she had outside and setting his blood on aflame.

            This Fire Dance was far from over.

 

* * *

 

 

            Elora couldn’t stop moving. Cullen was inside of her and she had thought that he would have started thrusting by now. But he was frozen under her as she writhed and twisted on him. She wanted more, more of him, more of this, more of everything she could get. Kneading at his shoulders, she could feel the scars under her hands, the different textures of the different wounds. He didn't protest the action and she didn't stop touching him.

            Arching her back, she moaned as her breasts brushed his chest. She could still feel his mouth on her from before, sucking on her nipples until they ached. She wanted that again. She wanted long fingers to cup and knead at her wherever he wanted to touch. She wanted him to move.

            “Cullen,” she whimpered.

            She heard him take a deep breath.

            “Cullen, please!” she begged.

            A groan ripped out of him and his hips snapped up.

            She bounced on his lap in response to it, her legs tightening around him. But she moved with him on the next one, meeting him, rolling her hips to move him inside her. He made a pleased noise in response and she smiled faintly at it.

            The smile didn’t last long as his hands moved down to cup her ass and he lifted her on him before bringing her back down hard. She stared at him as he did it again, nearly pulling out of her and filling her with a single thrust. “Oh,” she gasped.

            He hesitated as he lifted her, fingers flexing on her ass. “Alright?” he asked tightly.

            “I didn’t say stop,” she whispered.

            Cullen curled forward into her, pressing his cheek against her hair. She heard him inhale deeply, rubbing against her. He slowly started moving again, still sliding her along his cock. “Dance with me,” he breathed.

            Closing her eyes, Elora bit her lip as she moved on him. She could feel all of him flexing against her as he thrust into her, their chests pressed together. The hair on his chest rasped over her nipples and made them ache all the more. Rolling her hips, she cried out when she rubbed against him and it sent pleasure sparking all through her.

            His groan rippled over her and she realised she was squeezing him, clenching tightly around him as he slid into her. “Again,” he hummed.

            Again? She pushed down against him, grinding like she had earlier. “Oh,” she mewled, putting more pressure on that spot.

            When he thrust into her this time, he ground against her as well, working himself inside her slowly. Each shift of his hips had her tightening, her sex gripping him to keep him where he was. It didn’t work as he kept thrusting for a few moments before grinding.

            She nudged his head with a low noise. “Kiss me,” she whispered. “Kiss me, kiss me, kiss m-mmm.” Purring into his mouth, she curled her tongue around his as he slipped past her lips. One hand moved to thread through his hair, gripping it tighter than she probably should. But he didn’t protest, only kissed her harder, slanting his mouth over hers and following her as she leaned back slightly.

            He grunted as her hand left his shoulder and smacked into the floor of the hut. It broke the kiss she had wanted and he didn’t look happy as she moved away from him. She saw his gaze move over her as she trailed the other down his chest, pressing it flat over his heart. She knew the dying fire was casting light on her now, could see it licking against her skin as he held her hips to him.

            When his gaze came back to her face, it was hungry. His fingers flexed on her before he was thrusting into her, nothing controlled about it this time. The firelight danced on him as he moved, creating shadows as he bent forward enough that she couldn’t see his face anymore. But her eyes slid shut as he fucked her, pulling her to him with every thrust.

            Letting her hand fall further, she slipped it between her legs and rubbed quick circles over the little bud there. He groaned his approval as she didn’t stop, pressing harder on herself to get her there. He was stroking her deeply, each thrust driving him as far as he could.

            Rolling her hips into her touch, she cried out as pleasure flooded her, erasing everything else. Her arm trembled before giving out. She smacked into the floor and whined as he didn’t stop moving. She writhed against the floor, shuddering in his grip. Her legs had unwound from around him, her feet pushing against whatever she could reach in a vain attempt to get away from him.

            His head lifted slightly and her breath caught as he stared down at her. The heat in his gaze was blazing, putting the bonfire to shame. She could barely breathe as he looked at her like that, his lips parted as he breathed heavily. But there was something else, something more in his gaze that she couldn’t place. It was questioning, but about what?

            She couldn’t think, didn’t want to think. Blindly reaching out for him with shaking hands, she whimpered, “Cullen!”

            His eyes squeezed shut before his hips were snapping forward hard into her. He jarred her on the floor but she didn’t move anywhere, his grip keeping her right where he wanted. But it didn’t last long as a sharp gasp left him and his fingers tightened on her to the point of being painful.

            Before she could protest, he was groaning, letting her go and slumping over her. She squeaked slightly as his weight rested on her despite him catching himself on his forearms but she quickly wound her arms around him. She wanted him there, didn’t want him anywhere else. His face was pressed into her neck, kissing her gently and absently nibbling on sweat slicked skin.

            Letting her head thump on the floor, she stared up at the ceiling of the hut and tried to breathe. She’d had sex before but never like this, never anything like this. She liked this much better.

            Elora turned her face enough to rub her cheek against him, making a pleased noise as his curls tickled her nose. He smelt of leather, sweat and sex. She imagined she didn’t smell much better.

            A groan left Cullen and he pushed himself up enough so she could see his face. “Alright?” he asked, his voice husky.

            She nodded shallowly. “You?”

            His lips curled up and he nodded once.

            Her lashes felt heavy as she blinked lazily, watching him almost sleepily. “Now?”

            “Catch your breath,” he murmured, gently brushing a lock of hair away from her face. “But don’t go to sleep. I’m not done with you yet.”

            She perked up slightly. “Bed?”

            Cullen smiled slowly at her, his fingers trailing along her cheek now. “We’ll get there.”

**Author's Note:**

> Well, this was a lot more fun and stressful than it should have been. There's actually an entire story and plot line that we've worked out, but this is what really started it all. That and I wanted to write smut.
> 
> Tiny note about the Fire Dance: it happens on the night of the new moon for four months from the first new moon of spring to the first new moon of summer and that's it. It's used as a courting ritual for a permanent type of marriage between the Avvar and is not taken lightly by anyone when it is used for courting. Otherwise, it's just a big celebration of life and sexuality.
> 
> Note (Oct 26): The story has been updated to fit the actual Lowlander plot line now that we’ve reached that point and picks up exactly where Chapter 16 left off!


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